Daily Joke: Jokes Library

While walking down the street one day, a presidential candidate is tragically hit by a car and dies.

His soul arrives in heaven and is met by St. Peter at the entrance.

“Welcome to heaven,” says St. Peter. “Before you settle in, it seems there is a problem. We seldom see a high-ranking official around these parts, you see, so we’re not sure what to do with you.”

“No problem, just let me in,” says the politician.

“Well, I’d like to, but I have orders from the higher-ups. What we’ll do is have you spend one day in hell and one in heaven. Then you can choose where to spend eternity.”

“Really? I’ve made up my mind. I want to be in heaven,” says the politician.

“I’m sorry, but we have our rules.”

And with that, St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell.

The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a green golf course. In the distance is a clubhouse, and standing in front of it are all his friends and other politicians who had worked with him.

Everyone is very happy and in evening dress. They run to greet him, shake his hand, and reminisce about the good times they had getting rich at the expense of the people. They then dine on lobster, caviar and the finest Champagne.

Also present is the devil, who really is a very friendly guy and who is having a good time dancing and telling jokes.

They are all having such a good time that before the politician realizes it, it is time to go.

Everyone gives him a hearty farewell and waves while the elevator rises.

The elevator goes up, up, up and the door reopens in heaven where St. Peter is waiting for him. “Now it’s time to visit heaven …”

So, 24 hours pass with the politician joining a group of contented souls, moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They have a good time and, before he realizes it, the 24 hours have gone by and St. Peter returns.

“Well, then, you’ve spent a day in hell and another in heaven. Now choose your eternity.”

The politician reflects for a minute, then he answers: “Well, I would never have said it before — I mean heaven has been delightful — but I think I would be better off in hell.”

So St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell …

Now the doors of the elevator open and he’s in the middle of a barren land covered with waste and garbage. He sees all his friends, dressed in rags, picking up the trash and putting it in black bags as more trash falls to the ground.

The devil comes over to him and puts his arm around his shoulders.

“I don’t understand,” stammers the politician. “Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and clubhouse, and we ate lobster and caviar, drank Champagne, and danced and had a great time. Now there’s just a wasteland full of garbage and my friends look miserable. What happened?”

The devil smiles at him and says,

“Yesterday we were campaigning, Today, you voted.”

Two storks are sitting in their nest: a father stork and baby stork. The baby stork is crying and crying and father stork is trying to calm him, “Don’t worry, son. Your mother will come back. She’s only bringing people babies and making them happy.”

The next night, it’s father’s turn to do the job. Mother and son are sitting in the nest, the baby stork is crying, and mother is saying, “Son, your father will be back as soon as possible, but now he’s bringing joy to new mommies and daddies.”

A few days later, the stork’s parents are desperate: their son is absent from the nest all night! Shortly before dawn, he returns and the parents ask him where he’s been all night.

The baby stork says, “Nowhere. Just scaring the hell out of college students!”

Two men are sitting drinking at a bar at the top of the Empire State Building when the first man turns to the other and says, “You know, last week I discovered that if you jump from the top of this building, by the time you fall to the 10th floor, the winds around the building are so intense that they carry you around the building and back into the window.”

The bartender just shakes his head in disapproval while wiping the bar.

The second guy says, “What are you a nut? There is no way that could happen.” “No, it’s true,” said the first man, let me prove it to you.” He gets up from the bar, jumps over the balcony, and plummets to the street below. When he passes the 10th floor, the high wind whips him around the building and back into the 10th floor window and he takes the elevator back up to the bar. He met the second man, who looked quite astonished. “You know, I saw that with my own eyes, but that must have been a one time fluke.”

“No, I’ll prove it again,” says the first man as he jumps. Again just as he is hurling toward the street, the 10th floor wind gently carries him around the building and into the window.

Once upstairs he urges his fellow drinker to try it. “Well, what the hey,” the second guy says, “it works, I’ll try it!” He jumps over the balcony plunges downward, passes the 11th, 10th, 9th, 8th floors …and hits the sidewalk with a ‘splat.’ Back upstairs the Bartender turns to the other drinker, saying “You know, Superman, sometimes you can be a real jerk.”

It was after pizza night Tuesday when my son Greg came up to tell me there was “something very wrong” with one of the two lizards he holds prisoner in his room.

“He’s just lying on a rock looking sick,” he told me. “DAD! I’m very serious. Can you help?”

So I put my best lizard-healer expression on my face and followed Greg to his room. One of the little lizards was indeed lying on his back, looking stressed. I immediately knew what to do.

“Honey,” I called, “come look at Greg’s lizard!”

“Oh, my goodness!” my wife said. “She’s having babies!!!”

“What? Wait…” my son demanded. “But their names are Batman and Robin, Mom!”

I was equally outraged. “Hey, how can that be? I thought we said we didn’t want them to reproduce,” I said to my wife.

“Well Sweetie, what do you suppose me to do, post a sign in their cage?” she inquired (I think she actually said this sarcastically!).

“No, but you were supposed to get two boys Honey!” I reminded her, (in my most loving, sweet voice, while gritting my teeth).

“Yeah, Batman and Robin!” my son agreed.

“Well, it’s just a little hard to tell on some guys, you know,” she informed me again with the sarcasm!
By now the whole family had gathered in Greg’s room to see what was going on. I shrugged, deciding to make the best of it.

“Kids, this is going to be a wondrous experience,” I announced. “We’re about to witness the miracle of birth.”
“Ewwwww, gross!” they shrieked.

“Well, isn’t this just great? What are we going to do with a litter of tiny little lizard babies?” my wife wanted to know.

We peered at the patient. After much struggling, what looked like a tiny foot would appear briefly, vanishing a scant second later.

“We don’t appear to be making much progress,” I noted.

“It’s breech,” my wife whispered, horrified.

“DAD! Do something!” my son shouted.

“Okay, okay.” Squeamishly, I reached in and grabbed the foot when it next appeared, giving it a gentle tug. It disappeared. I tried several more times with the same results.

“Dad should I call 911?” my eldest daughter Whitney wanted to know “Maybe they could talk us through the trauma” (You see a pattern here with the females in my house?)

“Let’s get Robin to the vet,” I said grimly.

We drove to the vet with my son holding the cage in his lap.

“Breathe, Robin, please breathe,” he urged.

“I don’t think lizards do Lamaze,” his mother noted to him. (Women can be so cruel to their own young. I mean what she does to me is one thing, but this boy is of her womb, for Gosh sake.)

The vet took Robin back to the examining room and peered at the little animal through a magnifying glass.
“What do you think, Doc, a C-section needed?” I suggested scientifically.

“Oh, very interesting, ” he murmured. “Mr. And Mrs. Connor, may I please speak to you privately for a moment?”
I gulped, nodding for my son to step outside.

“Is Robin going to be okay doc?” my wife asked.

“Oh, perfectly,” the vet assured us. “This lizard is not in labor. In fact, that isn’t EVER going to happen . . . Robin is a boy. You see, Robin is a young male. And occasionally, as they come into maturity, like most male species, they um . . . Um . Masturbate. Just the way he did, lying on his back.” He blushed, glancing at my wife.
We were silent, absorbing this. “So, Robin is just . . . Just ….ummm… Excited,” my wife offered.
“Exactly,” the vet replied, very relieved that we understood.

More silence. Then my cruel wife started to giggle. And she giggled some more. And then even laugh out loudly.
“What’s so funny?” I demanded, knowing, but not believing that the woman I married would commit the upcoming affront to my flawless manliness.

Tears were now running down her face. “It’s just . . . That . . I’m picturing you pulling on its . its . . teeny little . .” She gasped for more air between laughs once more.

“That’s enough,” I warned her. We thanked the vet and hurriedly bundled the lizard and our son back into the car. He was glad everything was going to be okay.

“I know Robin’s really thankful for what you did, Dad,” my son told me.

“Oh, you have NO idea,” my wife agreed, collapsing with laughter.

Two lizards: $100.

One cage: $60

Trip to the vet: $40.

Memory of your husband pulling on a lizard’s winkie: Priceless.

Two little kids are in a hospital, lying on gurneys next to each other, outside the operating room.

The first kid leans over and asks, “What are you in here for?”

The second kid says, “I’m in here to get my tonsils out and I’m a little nervous.”

The first kid says, “You’ve got nothing to worry about. I had that done when I was four. They put you to sleep, and when you wake up they give you lots of Jell-O and ice cream. It’s a breeze.”

The second kid then asks, “What are you here for?”

The first kid says, “A circumcision.”

And the second kid says, “Whoa, Good luck, buddy, I had that done when I was born… Couldn’t walk for a year.